


the textbook definition of love

by cheolhie



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Confessions, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Peer Pressure, also only a lil bit, because it's the content we deserve!, chan pining over cheol, it's bad but the people need it and it's my duty to flood the chancheol tag, nervous channie really likes cheol, only a lil bit tho, ugh my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheolhie/pseuds/cheolhie
Summary: six years later, and it was still acrush.kind of.





	the textbook definition of love

**Author's Note:**

> this was the result of a twitter poll, god bless my cute followers! they know what's going on and this is a chancheol nation so how could i not indulge them (and myself). 
> 
> also, while we're here, follow my [twitter!](https://twitter.com/08cult)

Lee Chan met his crush on a Thursday, six years ago.

It was a crush from day one, and now, roughly two-thousand, one-hundred and ninety days had passed but it was still a _crush._

Endless nights were spent under the duvet perusing forums and reading articles as to figure out what the difference between what _love_ is and a _crush_ is. Dozens of fake email addresses for anonymous accounts later and Chan was still left pondering the human condition and it's stance on _crushes._

Yet, he was still adamant that at most, this was simply a _crush._

(Although deep down he knew it had passed that point many years ago, though you would never catch him admitting it to himself.)

** 'How to Know You're Harbouring a Crush, a Comprehensive Guide.' **

_'Sign One: You Go Out Of Your Way To See Them.'_

Chan couldn't avoid it. The awkward squeezes past one another down the hallway and the manoeuvres a spin short of _acrobatics_ when packed in the kitchen together. It's not that Chan tried to see him, it's that he was _always there._

(At least that's what he convinced himself. Chan didn't count all the times he peeked around the corners just to see him. That was just him being cautious; he's no good if he's knocked his head!)

Perhaps Chan _had_ asked Mingyu at one point or another about the whereabouts of his crush, and just _maybe_ he had snooped through the managers file to see the man's schedule for the week just so he could plan around it. 

It wasn't Chan's fault! It was Seungcheol's stupid fault for making it so easy to crush on him.

So Chan dawdled about after practice, helped Seungcheol to pack up after recording. He always volunteered to run errands with him and was first to lend a helping hand. 

Not because he had a crush, of course not. He was just being a good friend.

At least Seungcheol never put too much thought into it.

_'Sign Two: You Take Any Opportunity To Make Physical Contact With Them.'_

"Why are you so clingy today?"

Oh, if Chan could have kicked up a fuss at that he would have. 

"I'm always like this." Of course, Chan _wasn't_ always like this, but Seungcheol didn't need to know that. Seungcheol didn't need to know anything, as far as Chan was concerned.

"Not to this extent." Seungcheol grumbled, reaching up into the kitchen cupboards. God forbid Seungcheol find out about the small, tiny, _infinitesimal_ crush he was nursing. 

Chan might have to start digging his own grave. 

(Begrudgingly, he untangled his arms from around Seungcheol's waist, where they had been for the past three-and-a-half minutes, but couldn't stop himself from lightly trailing his fingertips across the elder's waist.)

At this point, Chan could hardly go through a day without, at the very least, touching Seungcheol _once._ Whether it was a small collision in an enclosed space, or a purposeful hug, it made Chan's blood rush a bit faster.

He found that he needed to feel that spark of electricity whenever his skin touched Seungcheol's. 

It was a bit like a drug.

_'Sign Three: You Overanalyse Everything They Say and Do.'_

Chan has a sharp eye, if he does say so himself.

Perhaps _too_ sharp. 

And too sharp of a brain, while he's at it. 

Whether it's the brush of Seungcheol's skin against his or the _ridiculously long_ seven-second stare across the room, Chan always finds a way to spend the bare minimum of a week pondering over it.

(And with the amount of overanalysing Chan does over Seungcheol's minuscule actions, he's backed up a fair few weeks of pondering.)

And the latest action of Seungcheol's that Chan had taken and torn apart into little shreds for analysis was regarding a certain night in which the elder had to be _dragged_ to bed after one too many drinks. 

Seungcheol was affectionate without having his blood replaced with alcohol, but under the influence he just _couldn't keep his hands to himself._

So he'd slung his arms around Chan's neck, buried his face into the back of his shirt and demanded to be carried to bed. 

"I'm tired, Channie. Bed. Sleep. _Now!"_

Chan, of course, obliged, but not without a face flushed pink. He had tucked Seungcheol into bed, still fully clothed, and went to ask Junhui to keep an eye on him through the night. 

He spent the next week thinking about Seungcheol's arms around his neck and cheek against his shoulder. 

Not that Seungcheol meant anything by it, anyways. 

Alcohol is a funny thing.

_'Sign Four: You Can't See a Future Without Them.'_

Chan's future was simple: continue as SEVENTEEN until his joints turned into dust.

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. 

Kind of.

He saw his friends as being with him forever, _almost._ They left for periods of time, travelled and visited family, then returned back to his side. They always returned. 

But Seungcheol? He never even left. 

Chan couldn't– _wouldn't_ believe a world existed without a man the likes of Choi Seungcheol. 

(Deep down Chan knew that the world existed before Seungcheol and would continue to exist after Seungcheol. But Chan thought _his_ world wouldn't exist without him. A thought so cliché it made his cheeks aflame.)

"What do you want to do after this ends?" Chan had drawn the curtains as he spoke, blocking out the last drips of molten sunlight dripping into the dorm. 

"This?"

"Us. All of us."

The leather of the couch squeaked as Seungcheol had shifted, uncomfortable.

"I'll always be here Chan. We won't end."

The certainty in Seungcheol's voice was unwavering. It terrified Chan. What if Seungcheol was wrong?

No, Seungcheol would never lie to him.

Chan beamed.

_'Sign Five: You Talk About Them All The Time.'_

"Chan, shut up."

"What?"

"Shut up about Seungcheol."

"I wasn't even talking about him!" Chan sputtered, clutching a mug in one hand and his phone in the other. "I was ju–"

 _"You don't even know you're doing it!"_ Soonyoung turned on Chan, looking irritated. He didn't suit that look. His face was all scrunched up, forehead wrinkled and lips curved downward. 

"Doing what?"

 _"That!_ Talking about Seungcheol like he hung the moon in the sky!" Soonyoung waved his arms about, splashing coffee across the kitchen. 

"Bu–"

"You like him, Lee Chan."

(Chan knew he was far beyond saving. Even _Soonyoung_ figured it out. It looked like the end of the line, and Chan wasn't good at confessions.)

Chan's silence said everything. 

"Tell him."

"I can't."

"You talk about him to us enough. Just talk to him about your feelings for him. Easy peasy."

Bless Soonyoung's endless positivity. It didn't do much to ease his nerves, but bless it nonetheless. 

"I'm scared, Soonyoung." Chan stared into his coffee. "I'm so scared." 

Soonyoung put down his mug and gestured at Chan to do the same. "I'll be here if it all turns to shit." He pulled Chan into a hug. "I promise I'll stand with you."

Bless him.

_– ̗̀ ♡ ̖́ –_

After his conversation with Soonyoung, Chan left his feelings to stew for a week. It didn't do him much good.

He'd been putting it off; telling Seungcheol he needed to talk to him, yet dismissing him when he sought Chan out to, well, talk. 

He'd been keeping Soonyoung updated. He was getting just as antsy as Chan was, and gave him the last push on a mild Thursday night. 

"Take this then go find him." Soonyoung pushes a shot glass full of a yellow liquid into Chan's hand. "He's on the fifth floor."

"You're not supposed to fill a shot glass to the ri-"

_"Take it and go!"_

Chan gives Soonyoung a heavy look and downs the drink. "Why's he practicing?" 

"Stop trying to buy time. Just go." Soonyoung pushes Chan to the door. "Good luck. I'm here when you get back."

The walk to the fifth floor was a blur. Too fast and too slow all at once. Chan walks past the elevator, heading for the stairs. 

Buying time, he supposes. 

He knows which practice room Seungcheol will be in, but he checks the other three beforehand, _just in case._

Oh and when he finds Seungcheol, in his sweatpants-and-muscle-tee glory, he almost turns and leaves the practice room. 

He skirts the edges of the room to sit in the corner next to the stereo. Seungcheol had seen him in the mirror, but continues to practice.

His movements were all from raw power, deep in his muscles. Every spin he looked to relax further, unwinding and letting go.

The song comes to a crashing end, and Seungcheol moves to lay on the cool floor in front of Chan, chest heaving and his fingers twitching. 

"Good practice?" Chan takes Seungcheol's towel and twists it up, hitting the elder's leg. 

"Of course. There's no such thing as a bad practice." Forever positive, Seungcheol is.

It makes Chan smile. 

"Why are you here?" 

Chan visibly flinches, unable to stop himself. 

"I didn't mean that rudely! I'm sorry, I'm just–" Seungcheol sighs. "I just didn't expect to see you here."

"I..." Too late to back out now. "I came to talk to you about something."

"Is it the same thing you've been trying to talk to me about for a week?" Seungcheol sits up, patting his face with the towel. 

Chan pauses for a beat before nodding, avoiding Seungcheol's gaze. 

"You can tell me anything." Seungcheol leans in by a whisker width. "If you're having trouble with the schedule or if you've had an argument with anoth-"

"It's not that." Chan pulls his knees up to his chest. "It's bigger."

Seungcheol visibly flounders for a heartbeat. "If it's bigger then I suggest taking it up with the manager." 

"It's to do with you."

 _Oh no._ Now Seungcheol looks on the verge of a full blown breakdown.

"It's not bad." Chan holds his knees tighter. "I like you." 

It was mumbled and barely audible, but Chan counted it as a win and prepares himself to leave as soon as he could. Perhaps Seungcheol didn't hear him, but he told him nonetheless. 

"What was that? I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch it." Seungcheol leans in further, putting his hand on Chan's arm.

"I–" _Deep breaths, Chan._ "Like you. A lot!" It rushes out in one breath, and Chan buries his face further into his legs.

"I like you too! Don't tell anyone, but you're my favour-"

"No, Seungcheol. I mean _like_ like you." Chan peeks over his knees at Seungcheol, whose body is suddenly a lot further away from him then he remembers. 

"Oh."

_Fuck you Kwon Soonyoung. You've fucked this up! This is your fault._

Chan takes a shuddering breath and hides his face again. 

"I'm sorry."

The practice room is too quiet. Chan can almost hear the blood in his head. 

"For how long?" Seungcheol's voice is barely a whisper, but Chan hears him clear as day.

Should he tell the truth? Does he make himself look pathetic for pining over Seungcheol for six years? Or does he make himself look as if he doesn't know what he wants, like it's a phase?

"Six years." Pathetic it is.

More silence. Way too much silence. 

Chan lifts his head, starting to get irritated.

"For fucks sake, can you just say you ha-"

_Oh._

Seungcheol's lips were on his, softer than they looked and infinitely sweet. 

Chan pushes him off before his emotions get the better of him. 

"I don't want your fucking pity!" Chan blinks away the mist swirling in his vision. 

"It's not pity." Seungcheol's face breaks into a frown. 

"Don't lie and tell me you feel the same." Chan wipes at his eyes, voice cracking and breaking. "Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you." Seungcheol shifts closer again, holding out a hand. "Ask me anything and I'll tell you only the absolute truth."

Chan sniffs and finally, _finally_ meets Seungcheol's eyes. 

"Do you feel the same?"

"Yes."

Chan feels a tear, burning hot, scorch a trail down his cheek.

"For how long?"

"A very long time." Seungcheol's shoulders sag. 

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why me?"

"Why wouldn't it be you? It's always been you."

Chan feels his chest tighten, and it hurts so much he almost cries out. 

"I'm sorry." Seungcheol pulls back, teary eyed.

"It's okay." Chan reaches forward, grabbing at Seungcheol's hand. "I should've said something sooner."

Seungcheol pulls Chan forward into a hug, sending sparks of electricity through his veins. "These things take time." He pushes back Chan's hair and lays a soft kiss on his forehead.

They sit in silence for a while, more peaceful than the last few. Chan can hear Seungcheol's heart, a steady thud against his ribcage. It's melodic in it's own way. 

"What are we supposed to do?" Chan mumbles into Seungcheol's shirt, tightening his grip on the fabric. "We can't tell anyone, can we?"

"We'll see. These things take time." Seungcheol's voice rumbles low in his chest. 

"A lot of time."

"Six years worth of time?"

Chan laughs and lightly hits Seungcheol. 

"Sounds about right."

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed and uwu leave any ideas/recs in the comments because i'm running out of inspiration :(
> 
>  
> 
> [my twt](https://twitter.com/cheolhie)


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